Quietly, reverently with 10,000 oth- ers, I departed Polk Place. Such a peaceful, silent adjournment of so
many from this otllerwise vibrant, active
space was surreal, but then that which
prompted this gathering of the University
community was even more surreal.

I am referencing the poignant responses
to the tragic events
of Sept. 11.
Standing with others,
holding hands, listening to the com-
forting words of
our chancellor, our
student body president, a canlpus
minister, a professor
and others, my mind raced. The tragedies
that brought us together and the size of the
gathering prompted me to recall a spring
1970 Polk Place vigil in the aftermath of
the deaths of four students at Kent State
subsequent to the U.S. incursion into
Canlbodia as the war in Vietnam raged.

Outside Old East, I happened upon
our older son, and we chatted about his
reactions and thoughts. He had been in
touch with a friend and UNC alumnus
who works for a U.S. senator; one of his
roommates shared reactions from friends
in Israel.

In the Alumni Center, the day of the
attack we connected with the two alumni
tours traveling in Europe, prepared to
open our online alumni directory to all
alumni, students and others connected to
Carolina who visited our Web site (not
just GAA members) and began to put
together a panel ofUNC faculty for a
Thursday evening GAA program titled
"Understanding the Attack on America: A
Public Forum." And we waited.

We waited for that which we knew

CAROLINA MOURNS

would follow but whi.ch we wished our
Carolina fanUly could be spared. We
waited to learn tlle names offormer
Carolina students who perished on Sept. 11.

All too soon we learned that two of our
graduates died aboard two separate flights,
and in the following days we learned that
four more Carolina alwllni were victims
in the World Trade Center.

As we learned their identities, we mar-
veled at the courage offirefighters, police
officers, rescue workers and others in New
York and at the Pentagon and of the brav-
ery of passengers aboard United Flight 93
who denied terrorists a fourth target.

That which hauoted me in the early
hours and days after the attack remains
unshakable. Time and again I have flashed
back to June 1, 1965. On that bright, Fri-
day afternoon, a cab driver delivered a
telegranl to my mother at our Fayetteville
home. That telegranl conveyed the tragic
news that my dad had been shot and
killed in an ambush near Pleiku, South
Vietnam. Later that afternoon, at age 17, I
shared this news with the youngest two of
my four younger brothers. That single
bullet forever changed the lives of my
mother and each of her five young sons.

On Sept. 11, all of our lives changed.
And while we understandably will con-
tinue to search for answers and seek to
determine the implications for our country and the world, for now we continue
to ache for the sons and daughters, hus-
bands and wives, parents and grandparents
who lost family members. Without warn-
ing, without a telegram, with the entire
world watching, these families received
horrific news, which in1mediately
changed their lives forever.

It was not until I accompanied our
own sons as they visited other campuses
before choosing to come to Carolina that
I remembered that my dad was unable to
take me on any campus tours. That made
mese trips very special for me. My dad
never met my wife nor his grandchildren.
Dad was not around to share in my
accomplishments or to console me in my
disappointments. And now an estimated
10,000 children are without a parent as a
result of the attacks of Sept. 11.

For nearly 20 years I have written this
COlUll1Jl, and no colunm has been more
difficult to write. I convey mese personal
reactions because I think each of us is
dealing with the events of Sept. 11 on a
personal basis.

We should be proud that our Carolina
community again came together and con-
tinues to provide an enviroIDJlent for me
expression of all views and opinions
during this national tragedy. This is the
Carolina way.